


An Organza Swaddle

by Adeline_Hatter



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Blackouts, Discussion of how great HG's forearms are, Drinking, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Fashion Advice Flirting, I don't know what else to put here now so, Party Girl Lenore, Teaching Assistant HG, You wrote your number on my hand AU, cute flirting, swaddling, wellenore - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 09:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18825712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adeline_Hatter/pseuds/Adeline_Hatter
Summary: Lenore liked parties, she didn't however like waking up to find herself swaddled with three numbers, smudged ink and two letters on her wrist.





	An Organza Swaddle

**Author's Note:**

> This is unedited because I can't be bothered to edit it or reach out to a Beta reader so yEET

Lenore enjoyed few things more at College than the parties, especially the ones where the alcohol was top shelf and the men were rich.

 

The party she had attended last night was no exception to this rule.

 

She remembered finding the good wine in the cellar of this one guy’s house and then... Nothing.

 

She assumed it was epic because her hair was a mess and a high strung ache echoed through her head when she moved.

 

However, when she opened her eyes she found herself in her dorm room, in bed, tucked under the covers, a glass of water sat on her night stand next to a cut of of two aspirin, Lenore squinted at it for a moment then at her covers tucked so tightly yet comfortably around her.

 

Then Lenore came to two realisations at once.

 

One, someone had bought her home from an epically awesome party and Two.

 

Someone had goddamn _swaddled_ her.

 

Like she was a baby! And she was not a baby! So, maybe she got a little childish and clingy by four drinks, but she was nowhere near the level that would require swaddling.

 

Slowly she wriggled her hand free through the top and reached for the glass of water but stops short when she sees a three written neatly followed by a two, then a five and then… That was it, the rest of the phone number sat smudged along the inside of her wrist.

 

But the H and the G remained untouched.

 

Well, at least whoever had taken her home had attempted to leave a calling card for her to follow, however terribly that had ended up for them.

 

She looked over at the bed on the opposite wall, primly made, but even in a hangover daze she could tell it wasn’t freshly done.

 

Meaning Annabel hadn’t come home last night.

 

Pushing herself up- And noting that she still remained in the white lace sundress with the shouldered flower sleeves and sweetheart neckline she’d worn last night -Lenore found herself considering rethinking the whole plan she always had of drinking herself into a blackout stupor…

 

Well, it did feel good for the first hour she could remember so maybe it wasn’t all bad.

 

She picked up the aspirin, then the glass of water, taking the pain killer drugs

before downing half the glass.

 

Annabel couldn’t have taken her home, that much was certain, the cheery woman adored sleep just as much as she adored a good book.

 

She’d seen Edgar at the party- Which was weird because her little brother was never one for a party -so maybe he’d bought her home.

 

But if that were the case, he would have just left her a scathing text message that was six paragraphs long but would only contain words that had been fashionable in the eighteen hundreds or early nineteen hundreds, she didn’t know, she had only really paid attention to the romance stories to be fair.

 

And so, her two most likely Swaddlers had been ruled out, all she had were a few numbers and two letters to lead her to the culprit.

 

However, she needed out of this dress no matter how beautiful it was and a shower.

 

As her feet land on the ground she spots the heels she wore last night tidied away on her shoe rack in their proper place between the Gucci heels and Michael Kors boots.  

 

So, whoever had taken her home could recognise her need for order…

 

That narrowed down the list.

 

Rubbing her temples, Lenore closed her eyes and thought about the night before.

 

What returned was the wine cellar of Heights House, then the laughter echoing in her head of the Bronte sisters and of course the music that Charlotte chose to play too loud to the point it leaves it echoing even through the headache…

 

And the slight tang of metal.

 

Oh, that bit was both strange and out of place.

 

She opened her eyes slowly, only to wince at the light again, lifting her wrist she stood slowly, walking over to her desk to pick up a piece of paper and a pen, jotting down what she could read.

 

_325-_

 

_HG_

 

It had to be the start of a phone number, the question was whose?

 

Her head hurt more as she strained to remember more, so she shook it off, set the piece of paper down and picked up her wash basket.

 

A shower would help her think.

 

* * *

  


It took her an hour to come up with what was at least half an hour of party time from the night before.

 

Unsurprisingly, she knew where it would lead her in her investigation as she came over to Wotton House across the quad, she checked the time on her phone, they didn’t have any classes today so the chances that Oscar was even out of bed yet wasn’t a stretch.

 

Lenore pulls her classic operator sunglasses to squint up at the door to the building, he’d know exactly what happened last night, because he was Oscar and Oscar somehow knew everything.

 

It was like he had spies in the paintings on the walls at times, he’d breathe a piece of gossip or information that no one could locate the source from which it came.

 

Her phone rings when she holds it up to her ear, once, twice, she cheeks her freshly painted nails whilst staring up at Oscar’s window, before moving it so she could smooth her skirt down on another sundress, this time in a more breezy style that would keep her cool in the warm spring whilst she waited.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Good morning Oscar, would you like some coffee?” She says it slowly in her most chipper voice.

 

She can hear his dislike for her early morning call on the other end without him even speaking, before he yawns and replies, “If you’re buying my dear.”

 

“Meet me downstairs in five minutes.”

 

“Five minutes? Lenore you know I can’t-”   
  
“Five minutes~” She sings and then hangs up.

 

* * *

  


“I hate you,” Oscar murmurs as he accepts the take out coffee cup from Lenore, primed and pressed to the nines just like she was and the man had claimed he couldn’t do it in five minutes, “I absolutely hate you, first you disappear from the Bronte party just as it was getting started and next you wake me up far too early, Lenore, I haven’t had my proper amount of beauty sleep-”   
  
She sips her own coffee, “I bought it and someone took me home, I’m just not sure who.”

 

“Oh?” Just like that the annoyance has seeped away and Oscar’s curiosity is present beyond belief, but there’s also some worry in his eyes, “Are you alright?”

 

Lenore waves him away, “I’m okay, don’t worry, I woke up swaddled but with all my clothes on, well, apart from my heels that were cleared away properly…”

 

“You are leaving something out, you woke me up at an ungodly hour-”

 

“It’s ten in the morning.”

 

“-so if you have any gossip you need to inform me as repentance.” He points an accusing finger at her and her eyes roll of their own accord.

 

Sliding her sunglasses onto her head she casts her eyes across the sprawling view of the campus from it’s coffee shop, “Annabel didn’t sleep in her bed last night.”

 

A soft gasp echoes out of her companion as he starts to talk when something catches Lenore’s eyes.

 

Or well, _someone._

 

She watches the TA from Inventive Fiction running down a path, a pile of books in one hand and the rest of his demeanour a complete and utter dishevelled mess.

 

She remembers him from the start of year club events, he’d stood proudly in front of the ‘Supernatural Sciences Society’ signs as they tried to entice the freshman to their respective pursuits, black hair all wavy and nice to look at, probably nice to thread fingers through too.

 

The guy wore Hot Nerd like it was nothing more than a sticker on a shirt, rolled up sleeves on white button up shirts with suit vests, his style leaning towards Steampunk.

 

She knew he was a TA because Edgar had told her, she knew his last name but not his first as she’d only ever really seen him react to yells of “Wells!” From across a room.

 

“Lenore? Lenore?” Oscar’s hand waves in front of her face just as she loses sight of Wells and she sighs, “That’s funny, I didn’t think HG was your type,” He laughs a little, “Though he is quite cute isn’t he?”

 

It takes her a moment to register what he’s said.

 

“HG?”

 

“Yes, H.G.Wells, he’s the TA for Inventive Fiction.” Oscar sips his coffee, leaning back in his chair with a secret little smile as if he’s enjoying watching her confusion, “Did you really not know his name?”

 

Lenore is standing before she really thinks about it, “The Cute Steampunk TA?”  
  
“The Cute Steampunk TA, yes.” He blinks, watching her pick her phone up from the table along with her coffee, the smile still present, “You seem excited about this knowledge.”

 

She’s walking towards the door now, “I think he took me home last night! Sorry Oscar, gotta go.”

 

“Don’t be sorry, you paid for my coffee- And she’s gone.”

 

* * *

  


HG Wells, was not really a man who went to parties, or any social gatherings to be fair, he enjoyed the occasional one but sometimes they were a little much.

 

Last night had been one of those times when he ultimately had a woman who resembled short of a Goddess suddenly cling to his arm and refuse to let go no matter what he said or did, before said woman had launched into a ramble on how exactly he was handsome.

 

It became apparent that she was drunk and that he did know her, Lenore Poe, she had a whole list of things she assisted in at the University from the Fashion Society to the Theatre and Drama department.

 

She’d given him fashion advice next, explaining that he looked better when he had his sleeves rolled up and tie loosened, before he managed to locate her roommate Annabel Lee.

 

Then he’d taken her back home, making sure she was comfortable in her bed and leaving his name and number on her wrist incase she woke up and wandered out of her room again.

 

HG thought that had been the last of it, there were of course aspects of the evening and the journey he’d keep himself, purely because he felt that they shouldn’t be shared and that Lenore would probably prefer it if he left them unspoken and thus forgotten about.

 

So, that was how it had ended in his eyes.

 

Until now.

 

The classroom door bursts open at the back of the room and he jumps, turning around to watch as Lenore Poe starts to make her way down the steps towards him.

 

“You!” She all but yells, jabbing a finger in his direction arriving next to him a moment later.

 

HG fumbles with the papers he is holding, almost dropping them all into a bigger pile on the floor, “Me?” He asks in both awe, confusion and surprise, “What can I do for you?”

 

“You swaddled me!”

 

He blinks, “Um…”

 

“You took me from an overly epic party, took me home- Which okay, is appreciated because if I can’t remember anything at least I got home safely -but swaddling was a step too far.” She continues, taking another step towards him, her outstretched finger now making contact with his chest.

 

This leads to her looking up at him in the eyes, they’re large and dark, like an inescapable void as he looks into them, “I do apologise, Lenore.” Something changes in her face when he says her name softly, it almost unnoticable and he decides that maybe he’s seeing things, “I didn’t mean to overstep any bounds.”

 

“You… Um, you didn’t.” Some of the tension leaks out of her shoulders, her feet on the floor carefully, “I’m just, not really happy having been treated like a child when I’m a grown woman is all.”

 

Her finger retracts ever so carefully, but she doesn’t distance herself again, instead choosing to cross her arms.

 

“Do you really not remember anything?” He asks linking his own arms behind his back, “I did make sure to feed you some water before getting you fully into bed, Annabel said it would take awhile.”

 

Lenore, seems a little sheepish, “I remember bits and pieces, but, would you mind if you relayed anything I said on the way home or how you actually came to taking me home?”

 

“O..Oh! Of course, no worries.” He lifts his wrist to check his watch, “We still have half an hour till the class is schedule to start so.” He motioned his hand to one of the seats in the front row, “Shall we?”

 

She doesn’t reply, just walks over to it in heels he was sure could kill a man, “So, how did I end up with you as an escort home?” She sits with so much grace and poise it’s almost hard to look away.

 

“You came up to me around ten o’clock last night, clutched my arm with a drink in the other hand and blanantly told me you liked my cheek bones.”

 

He watches as her face lands in her hands, “Anything else?”

 

“You seemed quite happy to add on that I shouldn’t roll my sleeves down because I looked better with my forearms on show.” Sheepishly now, he glances down at the fact that he has them rolled up today.

 

Lenore sits up straight again now, then she shrugs, “Well, it’s true, but that’s besides the point…. Oh gods I think I remember what I did next.”

 

“You…” HG swallows, sitting down next to her, “You loosened my tie and inquired as to whether you could kiss me or not, you got quite fussy when I refused…”

 

Her cheeks go pink, he can feel his own heating.

 

“Then I went to find Annabel with you.”

 

They fall into silence, Lenore staring straight ahead for a long moment, before her gaze swivels to him, he can track her movements over his face and his bone structure, a flustered feeling filling him the longer she stared.

 

“Even drunk I’m a good judge of character.” She declares and stands up, holding out her hand, “Can I borrow your phone?”

 

He blinks again, “Why?”

 

“So I can give you my number duh.”

 

He pulls it out of his front pocket and hands it over to her, unlocking it as he went, “Um, here, go ahead… Why would you want my number?”

 

“Clearly I have to take you out to dinner now to make up for my totally embarassing attempt at seducing you the first time.”

 

HG looks her now, properly, he can feel his face heating up as her own phone makes a noise in her shoulder bag, before she hands him his own back, an open display of a recently texted message facing him as she starts to walk away.

 

“Call me.” She calls behind her.

 

He is left staring after her quietly, before he sets his phone down carefully next to him…

 

To promptly collapse into what anyone with common sense would classify as a mess.

 

His phone pings again.

 

_One last question_

 

HG watches the bubble appear again to signal her typing.

 

_What does HG stand for?_

 

He debates it for a moment before answering.

 

_Oh, I couldn’t possibly tell you, it’s terribly embarrassing._

 


End file.
